


If you forget that I love you

by livinginadaydream (orphan_account)



Category: Disney RPF, Jonas Brothers
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-25
Updated: 2010-08-25
Packaged: 2017-10-12 11:36:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/livinginadaydream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every night, he tells them he loves them. Except not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If you forget that I love you

Every night before going to bed, the boys tell their family they love them. First it was Frankie, because he's the youngest, so his bed time was the earliest. Then Nick. Then Kevin and Joe who barely had a bed time, but went at the same time anyway. It started out as a rule for Denise and Kevin Sr. Before they got married, they decided that neither of them would go to bed without telling the other they loved them. That way, if and when they fought, the issue would be resolved before either of them could sink into nightmares. When Kevin Jr. was born, they knew it would be a family tradition of sorts. It had worked for them so far, so why shouldn't it work for their whole family?

Not only did it keep fights from going longer than a day; it was a form of security. They always knew that if anything happened to any one of them, at least they'll have said, 'I love you.' Maybe it wouldn't do much, mean much, but maybe, just maybe, it would spawn a miracle.

\---

A fever attacked with the flu when he was only five. All day his stomach had been roiling, and he hadn't been able to eat more than a bowl of soup which quickly ended up in the toilet down the hall. They were _lucky_ it had even ended up there. Fatigue caused his body to stay almost perfectly still in the confines of his bed covers. It was too hot. It was too cold. And he was just so, so tired. Off and on he slept the time away, his insides battling against the infection, winning, and losing.

At seven when Joe and Kevin were tucked into their beds, Nick had been out for a couple of hours, and their mom didn't want to wake Nick up; he needed his strength. Joe, in particular, had whined over this. Kevin had, as well, been uncomfortable with the idea of leaving it unsaid, but in the end, he was the one who convinced Joseph that they could just tell him twice tomorrow, and that would make up for everything. Joe didn't believe him at first, but when his mother nodded, a little exasperated at her middle boy, Joe had tucked his head into the crease of his Power Rangers pillow, and had eventually fallen asleep mid-way through a prayer to God that Nick would feel better, and that he would know how much Joe loved him.

He did know. Nick knew. But when he woke up at 2:30 in the morning, fever slightly down, stomach almost settled, he was breathing hard, scared at how dark his room had gotten, wondering at his small nightlight on the wall by the door. Tears instantly came to his eyes, somehow blurring the darkness that surrounded him, yet spreading the light out in front of him. He flipped the covers off his bed so hard that he started having a coughing fit even as he ran to the door, swung it open and practically flew to Joe and Kevin's room. "I love you. I love you." He said in his out-of-breathe voice as he flung the door open and jumped in to the room. He ended in a desperate shout, "I love you! Joe! Kevin! I love you!"

The whole house had woken up, and mom and dad were jogging down the hall way, Denise sweeping Nick into her arms and cradling her sick baby boy, shhshing him, telling him it was okay. "No it's not mom. I didn't get to tell you I loved you." Tear trails were still drying on his cheeks as he fell back to sleep after having told everyone individually he loved them, and them saying so in return. Joe said it twice anyway, even though technically he didn't have to anymore.

\---

Then, just as it happened any other day, night began setting in. Dinner came from brown paper bags with a yellow star and a red stripe, drinks holstered into a cardboard carton, brought specially to them by a Drive-Thru window. Most of them got salads. That was already the third time that week they had eaten almost strictly from a fast food restaurant.

They were almost to their next destination on the tour though, and it was so exciting; they were riding on Adrenalin highs. Nick, so many thoughts running through his head, hadn't been able to sleep for more than three hours at a time since they had left three days ago. Music had been flowing through him, journeying through his limbs, his veins a subway system, circulating. Lyrics had been coming in waves, so most of the time he had a notebook handy with pen to write them down, dropping Guitar Hero or whatever they were playing when his brain kicked into gear.

Digging the freshness he felt from having vegetables that night, Nick's mind was running through vivid stories, telling him tales that simply had to be written into songs. It was like it never ended. So he holed himself up in his bunk with his reading light on, keeping a steady tempo with tap of his sock-covered toes, focus on the blue lines of the paper in front of him and the spill of the black ink as he led the pen tip across the paper. He was so into this, owning it, that when one by one, everyone told him goodnight in the usual manner, he only muttered a 'goodnight' waving them off dismissively.

At around one am, his eyes had protested one too many times at having to be open. He finished jotting down one last idea before closing his notebook and placing the pen within the wire coils that held the book together. Stretching, yawning, and blinking, Nick forced himself out of his bunk, softly dropping to the ground, only the floor-lights shining in the main compartment of the bus. He blinked again, looking around slowly, wondering where everyone was before slapping his hand to his face. "No..." he groaned to himself, instantly feeling guilty for what he had done earlier. Quietly, he pulled open each curtain, and nudged a family member awake. "Love you," he said softly, getting a disgruntled groan here, a waved fist there. Place those with whom you will. (Kevin and then Frankie.) Joe gave him a small smile before punching him in the arm for waking him, then falling back asleep. Mom and dad just said their, "Mhmms."

Nick slept just fine then.

\---

"Good night **Joseph** ," had been said so sharply that it felt like someone had taken a knife and sliced an 'F' into the skin of his palm. F for finality, for fight, for failure. For 'figure it out on your own Joseph.' For 'forget everything nice I've ever said about you.' Feelings fake, focus frequently fading, faith found floundering.

He watched as the hump of Nick's shoulders were covered by the white hotel sheets, the tense muscles in Nick's back permeating through the cotton. A brick wall in his way, nothing to tear it down with. Joe sighed to himself, feeling his lungs weaken under this pressure. Taking his shirt off and throwing it to his suitcase, he slept in his jeans that night, only barely remembering to turn off the light before he fell into a restless sleep.

It was maybe twenty minutes later that a small heave of his mattress threw him into wakefulness. Opening his brown eyes, Joe tried to see through the dark, letting his eyes adjust, and finally his nerves woke enough to tell him there was a hand resting on his shoulder. He breathed out deeply and Nick placed his arms around him as much as he could with a bed in the way.

After a moment, laying in that embrace, Nick gave Joe some more space, his arm resting parallel along Joe's side. "I love you, Joe," his voice was small, soft, quieted by the night, but sure, so certain.

"I know." Joe said relief hitting him in a way that he hadn't felt since the car wreck. Nick had always, always told him he loved him before going to sleep on tour. He hadn't missed a night. When it hadn't happened, Joe, admittedly, had been slightly terrified. His sleep had been rigid, so stiff he realized then that his muscles ached.

"Don't - Never forget that, okay? Please, Joe?" Nick was begging, actually begging, and Joe didn't know if he could promise that he'd always know that, because tonight, tonight it had felt like Nick didn't love him.

"I'll try Nicky." It surprised him a little, when he felt Nick's lips press soft to his cheek. He wouldn't, couldn't forget.

\---

Nick never felt okay about forgetting to tell his family he loved them.


End file.
